


Talk Flower To Me

by purplesummer91



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-31
Updated: 2015-07-31
Packaged: 2018-04-12 07:21:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4470311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purplesummer91/pseuds/purplesummer91
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on the prompt: "I work part-time in a flower shop and you keep asking me about what this flower means in flower language and I honestly don’t know so you end up giving me a lesson"<br/>Dean works in a flower shop and, every day, he watches as a beautiful stranger walks by, but never talks to him. One day, the stranger walks in to buy a bouquet for a very special person, and ends up teaching Dean a thing or two about flowers (and how to deal with an embarrassing crush on a stranger!).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Talk Flower To Me

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this prompt:  
> "'I work part-time in a flower shop and you keep asking me about what this flower means in flower language and I honestly don’t know so you end up giving me a lesson’ AU"  
> source: http://cup-of-hot-coffee.tumblr.com/post/118599158660/job-aus

“Dean! It’s almost ten thirty!” Charlie’s cheerful voice called from the front of the shop - and Dean wasn’t proud of the way he knocked off a huge vase of sunflowers in his attempt to reach the front of the shop as soon as possible, muttering “Shit, shit - fuck,” under his breath, but not quite caring enough to stop and fix the mess. He had to get to the front immediately. And because he was just that fucking big of a loser, he ran there so fast that when he finally arrived behind the counter, he was a little out of breath.

Charlie raised an eyebrow at him, a knowing smirk on her face, and he had the good grace of giving her a sheepish smile and turning a little red.

“…I might or might not have knocked off that vase of sunflowers - you know, um. The really huge one,” he said. “I don’t think anything’s broken, but there’s water all over the floor, and someone’s gotta check I didn’t ruin the flowers, or something. Don’t hate me.”

“I swear, this whole thing is becoming ridiculous,” Charlie said, rolling her eyes at him. “Dean, just  _talk_ to the guy!”

“And make him think I’m some kind of stalker?! Nope, thanks.”

“Whatever, Romeo. But you owe me for cleaning up your mess again.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean said, waving his hand dismissively. In another moment, the banter would continue until Dean would finally agree to buy Charlie a drink for being a freaking awesome friend, or maybe help her out with some pretty girl or another. But now, Dean was too busy staring out of the window.

The thing about Dean was, he was a complete fucking loser.

He had started working at this flower shop a few months ago, when Charlie had mentioned that the colleague she usually worked her shifts with had quit, and the owner was looking for someone to replace him. The money was good, and Dean got to work with his best friend, which was awesome. Win-win, right?

Except, something went wrong.

Namely, Dean being a huge, huge,  _huge_ loser.

Every morning, at exactly ten thirty,  _he_ walked in front of the shop, turned to meet Dean’s eyes briefly - or maybe Dean was just imagining it, maybe  _he_ was just looking into the shop and Dean liked to think their eyes were meeting because he was a loser - and then walked away, only to walk by again a few minutes later with a cup of coffee in his hands.

The thing was, this guy was drop dead  _gorgeous_. With eyes so blue they made Dean all weak in the knees, and a face like an angel. And so, every morning, Dean waited and stared, only to see those blue eyes for a moment and sigh a little to himself. He had never even tried to say hi to him.

Because, as already established, he was a loser.

And besides, he couldn’t exactly just go strike up a conversation with a beautiful stranger walking down the street. He’d look like a creep. And so, every morning, he waited, he looked at Blue Eyes walk by, then went to the back room to pick up the pieces of his broken heart.

Because, other than being a complete loser, Dean was also a fucking drama queen.

He was so wrapped up in his own thoughts, fantasizing about maybe going to say hi to Blue Eyes, that he didn’t notice someone had walked in until they politely cleared their throat to get Dean’s attention, saying something he didn’t quite get. A greeting of some kind, most likely.

Dean shook himself out of his reverie, a little disappointed that he’d have to serve a customer right now, when Blue Eyes just about to walk by, until…

…until he realized the guy standing in front of him was Blue Eyes himself.

“…huh?” was the only thing that Dean managed to get out of his mouth - and he tried not to notice how Blue Eyes’s lips curled up in the tiniest, sweetest smile he had ever seen at that. Fuck.

“I said, could you please help me? I need a bouquet,” Blue Eyes repeated.

“Oh - huh, yeah, sure man. Sure,” Dean said, giving him a smile and clearing his throat awkwardly. “If you want a bouquet this, um… this is definitely the right place. Heh. Sorry. I just kind of… I was a little lost in my own little dream world, I guess.”

“Please, there’s no need for you to apologize. It’s perfectly understandable.”

“So, um… the bouquet,” Dean said, clapping his hands together. “D’you already have an idea what kind of thing you want? And how much you wanna spend?”

“Oh, I don’t exactly have a budget. I just want something nice, and whatever the price will be, I’ll be willing to pay,” he assured him. “I’m not… terribly knowledgeable, as far as flowers are concerned, I’m afraid. Though I did do a bit of reading on the subject. It’s very important that the bouquet turns out perfectly.”

Jesus, why was this guy so formal? And most importantly, why did Dean find it so fucking sexy? Goddamn it, he was so freaking screwed.

“Huh - yeah, um… that won’t be a problem man,” Dean said, giving the guy a grin. “What’s the occasion? Birthday? Mother’s Day? Atrocious ballet recital?”

“Not… quite,” he said, fixing his blue eyes into Dean’s with such intensity that Dean almost lost all composure and just freaking kissed him in the middle of the shop. “You see it’s for a very… special person.”

And just like that, Dean’s heart dropped, and the smile slipped from his face completely. This was just his fucking luck.

“So a… huh, girlfriend, then? Or boyfriend?”

“Again… not quite,” Castiel said, looking down for a moment. “You’ll probably think this is stupid, but… there’s this… this guy. I see him pretty much every day, but I never talked to him. I don’t even know his name, but… he’s beautiful. He has the most stunning eyes I have ever seen and… I suppose I just… want to… let him know, somehow.”

Oh, the irony. The guy Dean had been crushing on for the past few months… was crushing on someone else. But Blue Eyes was evidently not a loser like Dean, so he was actually gonna do something about it before it was too late. Good on him.

“Oh. Oh, um, that’s… nah, man I… I don’t think it’s stupid at all,” Dean said, giving Blue Eyes as a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I think it’s actually kinda sweet.”

And there it was. That tiny, adorable smile there. Jesus.

“Thank you…”

“Dean.”

“Dean,” Blue Eyes repeated. “My name is Castiel.”

“Huh,” Dean said, a little surprised that Blue Eyes - Castiel - had volunteered his name, but definitely not complaining. Any chance he was also gonna volunteer a phone number? No? “Castiel. That’s a…”

“Weird name? Yes, I know,” Castiel said with a long suffering sigh. “It’s an angelic name. Religious family. Long story.”

“I was actually about to say it was a really cool name,” Dean said with a shrug - and the way Castiel’s eyes lit up made him absolutely not sorry at all that he had just blatantly lied to the guy. Castiel was quite a cool name, yeah, but, honestly? Weird had been the first word that came to Dean’s mind when he had heard it. “So, huh… Castiel. Cas - you mind if I call you Cas? - any flower in particular you wanted for this… special guy of yours?”

“Cas is quite alright, Dean. I understand Castiel is a bit of a mouthful,” he assured him. “And… I actually saw some flowers I think would be great. Um… a single rose in the middle of the bouquet, maybe? Lavender, if you have it.”

“Yup - here it is, look,” Dean said, picking up one. “Is this one okay?”

“It’s perfect, thank you, Dean,” Castiel said, another tiny smile appearing on his face. “Remind me again - what do lavender roses mean in flower language?”

“Dude, really? Um… roses, I guess like, love or something?” Dean said, frowning. “I dunno, man. I just work here part time, I’m not a big flower expert or anything.”

“I believe roses have different meanings depending on their color. Lavender should be love at first sight,” Castiel said softly. “One single lavender rose means ‘I’m enchanted by you’, if I remember correctly.”

“Perfect for your guy, then,” Dean said, and for some reason, Castiel looked a little amused.

“Yes, I believe it  _is_ perfect for him,” he agreed. “I would also like to add gardenias to the bouquet. If possible, I’d like those in lavender, too. They’d look lovely with the rose.”

“You know your shit, huh? You did your research thoroughly,” Dean teased, picking up a few gardenias a slightly lighter shade than the rose. “You really wanna impress him.”

“Yes. I want to make sure that the bouquet is… absolutely perfect. That he likes it, and… hopefully likes me, too.”

Dean let out a sigh and met Castiel’s eyes.

“Dude. He’d be crazy not to like you. It’s really sweet what you’re doing for him. He’s a lucky guy,” he said truthfully, and his heart fluttered when he saw how pleased Castiel seemed.

“Thank you Dean,” he said softly. “What do gardenias mean in flower language?”

“It’s cute that you think I know,” he said, chuckling. “Nah, dude. Like I said, I just work here part time. Don’t care much about flowers - like, if someone bought me a bouquet like the one you’re getting for your guy, then I’d love it, but… I wouldn’t grow flowers in my back garden just for the hell of it, is what I’m saying, y’know?”

“I see,” Castiel said, studying Dean. “Gardenias mean secret love. They can be used to say ‘you’re lovely’ to someone.”

“Dude! And you learned all that by doing a bit of reading?! Damn. You should take my place here!” Dean said, laughing. It was sweet that Castiel had done all that research just to please some guy he had a crush on, but Dean’s heart hurt a little at the thought that he could never be that guy. Maybe he was a loser with an embarrassing crush, but… Cas was really cool. And he kind of really wanted to invite him out for a cup of coffee or something.

“I don’t believe this would be… the ideal job for me,” Castiel said, chuckling - and daaaamn, _why_ did he also have to have a cute laugh? So not fair.

“Believe me, it’s not mine either. But it’s cool. I like it well enough here, and I mean, it’s a job, and I need one, so…” Dean shrugged. “Um, anyway. Maybe some baby’s breaths?”

“I was about to suggest it actually,” Castiel said, nodding. “Do you know-” 

“Dude. No. I don’t. I don’t speak Flower,” Dean said, sounding amused. “But by all means, continue your crash course in Flower Language, professor,” he joked, laughing a little.

“They symbolize happiness,” Castiel said with a soft smile. “And I’m always happy when I see his eyes,” he added with a sigh. “Add some heather, too, please - that symbolizes admiration, and will look lovely with the lavender flowers. And to add some green… I was thinking a few fern leaves? They symbolize fascination. So they’re… fitting.”

“Dude,” Dean murmured, definitely impressed, and a little flushed. The intensity of Castiel’s gaze and the way he kept talking about flowers, guiding Dean as he made the perfect bouquet - the sort of bouquet Dean knew he should’ve just given to this guy months ago - was seriously too much for him. Fuck, he had been so stupid not to ask him out when he’d had the chance… “This is gonna turn out perfect,” he said as he worked on making the whole bouquet come together, on making it perfect for Cas’s special guy. Cas was a good person. And if he could have a chance with this guy who clearly meant a lot to him… well, Dean was gonna make freaking sure he didn’t screw it up because he was a terrible florist. So he worked harder than he ever had before, holding up the final result when he was done. “And… here it is,” he said, grinning at Castiel. “Good?”

Castiel looked at the bouquet, carefully taking it in his hands and smelling the sweet flowers before he smiled that small smile of his. “It’s a lot more than good. It’s perfect, Dean,” he assured him.

“Good. Good - I hope this guy of yours likes it. I’m sure he will actually,” Dean said, forcing out a smile as he rang Cas up, knowing that this was it. Cas was gonna get the flowers, go see this mystery dude, and disappear forever from Dean’s life, no chance for Dean to ever get him back. Life sucked.

“Well,” he said when Castiel had paid for his flowers. “Good luck, and…”

“Oh, Dean? I’m sorry - could I possibly have something to write a little note on? In case he’s busy and I have to leave the flowers to someone else.”

“Huh - oh, yeah. Sure,” Dean said, handing a small card and a pen to Castiel, watching him as he scribbled something Dean couldn’t see on it. Castiel looked up, then, and gave him another one of those smiles of his.

“You’ve been most helpful, Dean. Thank you,” he said as he carefully attached the card between to the bouquet and took it in his hands. “I will see you around,” he added before walking out of the door.

“…nah. I doubt it,” Dean mumbled to himself, utterly miserable as he walked into the back, asking Charlie to man the front instead. His poor shattered heart needed time to recover - and he’d have the chance to clean the mess he did before, in the meantime.

Fuck.

Couldn’t the guy be a huge jerk, instead of the sweetest fucking cutie Dean had ever met?

Fuck everything. Dean just wanted to hide under a rock forever and mope.

Unfortunately, as it turned out, he couldn’t even fucking hide in the back for five minutes, couldn’t even lick his wounds in peace, because after just, what, three minutes or so, Charlie called him back to the front of the shop, insisting that there was something he needed to see.

Dean sighed - she probably saw a cute girl, or this was a trick to make him help her with something she didn’t wanna do, or something. She was sneaky like that. But nothing, nothing could have prepared him for what was waiting for him.

Because on the counter, right next to the register, was the bouquet Dean had just made for Castiel.

Dean blinked, looking between Charlie and the flowers for a few moments, afraid that if he moved, they were gonna disappear. This couldn’t be what it looked like.

“Huh, Charlie…?”

“I dunno! He just walked in and said they were for a special guy, and that you’d understand.”

Dean stared at the flowers. This couldn’t  _possibly_ be…

Swallowing thickly, Dean walked behind the register, hesitating for a moment before he lifted the card that accompanied the flowers with shaking hands.

On it, a number was scribbled in black ink, along with a small note.

 

 __ _"Dear Dean,_  
_I believe it’s time for us to go on a date._  
_Call me!  
_ _Cas x"_


End file.
